


Champagne Tears

by DjarinsRiduur



Series: Champagne Tears [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cussing, F/M, Hatred, Hypnotism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Read at Own Risk, Suicide Attempt, Violence, dark themes, using powers for evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28811982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DjarinsRiduur/pseuds/DjarinsRiduur
Summary: Steve Rogers wanted you, but how could he want something he loathed?
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/You
Series: Champagne Tears [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112339
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I've been working on planning this for awhile and decided to finally write it. This series will also be posted on Tumblr.

You were temptation come to life, the gait of your walk, the stare in your eye, the power you held over everyone. The feeling one got when being near you is what broke them, what made them long for more and he had become one of them. They joked around and called you the not so human version of a bottle of champagne; decadently sweet, with a bite that stung. Steve swore he’d hate you. He wouldn’t fall for your trickery, for the lies you told him, because he believed that’s all you did.

Except like a fool madly under your spell he would drop to his knees for you; beg you to have him, because that’s what it was like being near you. This wasn’t your power talking, it was the simple fact that you were what he wanted. Steve had had a taste of the Viper’s venom and he longed for more. A fool in love is what they called him, but was it love that he was feeling?

Or was is the slow overwhelming sense of insanity slowly washing over him, because of the power you held over _him_. You called him the Golden Boy of the team. A man who was willing to fight on the good side of all of it, except he’d changed in the time that you were gone. Where there was once meek goodness, now stood a warrior willing to play the game you offered him.

Perhaps it was always meant to end this way. With him causing you to fall for him, to give yourself over to him, because there was no other way. Yet they didn’t call you the Viper for no reason. You were far from the prey he believed you to be and instead you were sitting in wait, giving him time to get used to you. Because isn’t that what vipers did?

Maybe that’s what drove you to him, bonded you to him. The shared experience of pain, of war, of knowing agony as if it were your closest friend. Because even after so long away from him; after so long of him loathing you, it still ended up with you coming back to him. And with him coming back to you. There was no escaping fate they said, but you didn’t know how hard it would be to actually escape it. To alter its effects so you didn’t go insane.

The temptation that was him grew to be too great and even after all that, even after all of what he gave you, made you realize, you were back to where you started.

You were back to him.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve didn’t expect you to be the asset they went to find and he certainly hadn’t expected you to be on special call from Fury. The one thing he didn’t want to happen, happens as old feelings return and tension begins to resurface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's not explicit yet, but it'll get there. For now enjoy the tension!

Things weren’t supposed to go down this way. Steve stood in the center of the battleground, his shield strapped to his arm, before making his way towards the group of soldiers that were fighting for who knows what. Stark flew over head communicating to the rest of the team what they were up against. It turns out they had enemies that weren’t a part of Hydra but of something else. Nat figured they might be belonging to the Red Room, but Steve knew differently. This was something else entirely and he suspected Zemo to be behind it.

He was standing in the middle of the forest where they’d tracked the target that Fury said they needed to help them. Why they needed this one person was unknown to the rest of the team, but Steve could feel that it wouldn’t do them any good. A smart remark came from Tony about how he needed to hurry his ass up and instead of doing just that he continued to stand in place. He had a reason for doing this, he always did.

A chill ran up the back of his spine before he was spinning around coming to see nothing but the end of a gold and silver whip head in his direction. It caught onto his leg, dragging him to the ground, seeming to bite into the layers of his suit to get to his skin. He stifled his cry of pain. Once it let go, he was back onto his feet, shield at the ready, but there was no need.

He didn’t have to fight the person who stood in front of him, because he recognized them instantly. Steve’s eyes narrowed in on you, but you seemed to enjoy seeing him after so long. A smile was painted on your face, the whip hanging loosely in your hand trailing to the floor.

“It took you longer than I thought Golden Boy,” you said, the snark in your tone one that he hadn’t missed.

Steve stood to his full height. “Fury wants you?”

You shrugged wrapping your whip around your body before stepping near him. “He said you had a villain to hunt and I was intrigued.”

“Funny coming from one herself,” Steve spit out.

Your smile only grew. “Why Golden Boy I didn’t know you had it in you to hate anyone. Glad that’s changed.”

He gripped your arm before you walked past him towards where the team waited. “A lot of things have changed since we last saw each other.”

Could you feel it to he wondered, the electricity between the both of you just like last time? It sparked in the air, sending him reeling, yet you remained calm and collected as you always did. He hated that. He could still visibly picture you standing on a rooftop pulling the trigger of a gun you shouldn’t have had. The image of you falling off that very same roof burned into his mind. The fear of never being able to save you still lingering every time he thought of you. Almost as if the aftertaste of you still hung around after two years.

“I’m not here to bring up old memories if you aren’t,” you said lowly. “What happened, happened a long time ago. Fury called me in so I’m here.”

He scoffed. “I can’t seem to get why he’d want a _villain_ on his side.”

“I think you and I both know why.”

Another memory hit him like a train. You giving up your identity to save him, to protect him, while you gave into something harsher. He knew you had powers; had known about them the second you were recruited onto the team. Except you never learned to control them. The debilitating powers that surged through your veins constantly creating you into something akin to a god. Only you never asked for it, never asked to gain powers that would one day control you instead of you control them.

You were his best friend at one point, but no matter how hard he searched for the woman he used to know, he seemed to always come up empty handed.

“Rogers!” Tony called. “Do you have the asset?”

The grip on your arm released as Steve stepped away from you. “I have her,” he called back.

He was letting you go, but you knew that this conversation between the two of you was far from over. The past you held with Steve was complicated; always had been. You were a new recruit trained to be an Avenger, but then things happened. A predicament you never thought you’d find yourself in happened and you were left to figure out how to deal with it. Instead of giving into him, allowing him to help you. The bitter part of you turned away from Steve and all he was offering, choosing to make a name for yourself. One that left a path of pain and agony in its wake.

Tony’s eyes widened behind his mask as he saw you walk over in your green, silver, and gold suit. You had changed exponentially since he’d last seen you and it shocked him to see the ruthless glint in your eyes. Where there was once humor and fascination now resided a mirthless stare that would have anyone cowering to their knees. You had turned into the one thing you were terrified of becoming and now you had to live with it.

“Mr. Stark,” you said with a smile that he knew to be a ruse.

“Y/N.” He saw Steve come up behind you. “Or should I call you by your new name?”

He was genuinely asking, but for some reason the question stung. It was bitter in a way and you didn’t like it. Except you couldn’t allow yourself to be belittled by people who you had put your faith in once. You became what you are for a reason. Standing taller you met the eyes of his helmet, a smile on your ruby painted lips.

“I’d prefer Viper.”

They remained standing where they stood, watching you head in the direction of the ship. Tony turned to question Steve except he saw the lingering look of pain in his friend’s eyes. The knowledge that memories he didn’t want were coming back to the surface, bringing back a feeling that he didn’t want to hold onto.

“We’re good right?” Tony asked.

Steve snapped himself out of the past just as he always did and nodded. “Let’s get back.”

You were leaning against the ship when they came through the thicket of trees. Tony entered right away followed by Steve who didn’t bother to look at you. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or feel annoyed at him ignoring you, but then again you did deserve it. Even after two years he still held the hatred for you that ran through his bones deeply and you didn’t see it leaving him anytime soon. That was good.

The more he hated you, the less it would hurt when you vanished again.

Instead of dwelling on it you squared your shoulders and entered the jet meeting the eyes of the team you were almost a part of. They took in your form with narrowed gazes. You were the odd man out in this group, left to fend for yourself amongst the Earth’s mightiest heroes. The only person who was glaring at you, a lazy grin on her face was the famous red-haired woman Natasha Romanoff.

She had trained you when you were a recruit and even back then she knew your deepest darkest secrets without you even saying them out loud. A skill she had perfected over the years. One that made her into the lethal weapon she was today. You smiled back at her, seeing nothing but humor in her gaze at the sight of you doing exactly what she had done for herself. Made a name, did what you felt was right for you before helping out the good side of the world.

You settled in for a long flight back, prepared for the silence to continue. They were going to ice you out for as long as they possibly could, that much you knew. So, instead of feeling upset about it you busied yourself with focusing on things around you. Being the villain would leave you being unliked, it would leave you with no one to turn to and you accepted that a long time ago. Yet being here in the same place as people you once put your trust in caused an ache in your chest.

Thankfully the flight didn’t take more than an hour and within that hour you were able to think about your purpose with The Avengers. You weren’t there to make nice with them, and you certainly weren’t there to make nice with Steve. There was a job to be done. The silence was suffocating between you and the group, forcing you to shift in your seat every few minutes. You nearly let out a cry of joy when the jet landed and you were allowed off.

“Fury wants to brief you,” Tony said before leaving.

Narrowing your eyes, you could feel them, the stares of people as you walked through the facility towards Fury’s office. You were an unwanted visitor in their territory. A predator who was being forced to become prey. A grin made its way onto your lips and you nearly bared your teeth at them, the thought to tempting. What would they do? shoot you? A hilarious notion for them to try.

“Miss Y/L/N.” Fury’s voice came down the hall. “Good of you to join us.”

You spun around to come face to face with the man who called you in. Unlike the others Fury always had your location, always had your agreement to help, because he held something that you desperately needed protected. You still had family, parents, a sister who should be in high school now. They believed you to have died when you gained your powers and you allowed them to keep that belief, because the truth would have torn them a part.

Fury kept them safe and in turn you came when he called.

“Director Fury,” you replied. “Didn’t think you’d need me in so soon.”

He motioned for you to follow; his eye focused on someone who stood behind you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who he was watching, who had followed you in the moment you walked into the building. Sure, enough you turned and met the blue eyes of the man you loathed; or at least the one you wanted to loathe.

You didn’t bother with the glare Steve sent your way and instead went after Fury. He didn’t call you here just to deal with a villain The Avengers could handle with their eyes closed. No, Fury held a proposition for you outside of all of this. What The Avengers never knew, what Steve never knew was that you creating a name for yourself- it wasn’t _for_ yourself. Not completely. Fury had hearings of people wishing to re-create the program in which Bucky Barnes came from and you were sent in infiltrate them, to destroy them from the inside out.

Becoming a villain, it was a destiny that you always held, always knew you’d have and you accepted it. Thrived on it. It was easier for people to hate you than to gain their respect. You had to learn that the hard way and you still wouldn’t choose a different path for yourself. Even if Steve knew the truth behind why you did what you did, there’d be no other option for you.

“I need you to tell me what you found,” he said.

You made yourself comfortable in the extra chair. “That’s not how this works.”

Nick Fury had always liked your stubbornness, your streak of defiance, the same one that he harbored. “You sit in my office. I tell you how this works.”

He could see it, the shift in your eye color, the gold that filtered through whenever you fought for control. “I didn’t do this for you and you know that,” you spit out. “Are they safe?”

There would be no winning a fight against you even if he wanted to go against you. So, he opted for sliding the thin folder across the desk, watching you snatch it away and scan the documents. All the intel gathered over the last two years of your family, their whereabouts and who they came into contact with that might be of harm. You read it over, eyes staying on the image of your sister longer than necessary, but you couldn’t get over how big she’d grown in two years. No longer the young girl you had left behind. The reminder of why you did this, why you didn’t bother with being a villain out in the open sat right there in that folder. All of it a constant ache in your body, but the fuel for your overall purpose.

“Three men. I didn’t get a hold of names before you pulled me back, but they have the data needed for a new serum.” You didn’t bother looking up from the file.

“Have they come up with anything yet?”

“Not that I know of. They were testing it on lab rats when I vanished.”

Fury nodded. “Rats is better than humans I suppose.”

You huffed out a laugh, closing the file and setting it back on the desk. “Director Fury, I never specified _rats_. They found it was easier to use a much more vital life form, one that would put up a fight against the serum killing them.”

He took in the information, seeming to be unfazed by what you said. But that was the nature of the job. No matter how gruesome the act, it would still be a step below what _could_ happen. You assessed the situation, figured out a plan, and acted on it, rather than dwelling on the possibilities.

“You have this job, but once that’s done, we’re sending you back in. Understood?” He asked standing from his chair.

You followed suit. “Understood sir.”

Leaving the office wasn’t a difficulty for you, it was who stood outside the office that became the difficulty. Steve had been waiting ever since you stepped in there with Fury, because he wouldn’t let you out of his sight this time around. Who knows what you were really here for? And while he tried to force that thought to the forefront of his mind, convince himself that he truly waited for that and that alone. He knew the real reason. Steve was still attached to you without even knowing it himself.

“Careful Golden Boy, I might think you still love me.” You played off the words as a quip, something off the top of your head, but you had no idea how close to home they actually hit him.

Steve faltered. For the first time in two years, he faltered in coming up with a response and you could see it. His eyes narrowed, gaze shifting to see who was around, and when he finally saw what he liked you were shoved back. The grip on your upper arms was tight and bruising as he pushed you into a smaller hallway of the facility, until your back hit a wall.

You knew your eyes had flashed when his gaze met yours, because you saw the way it made him nearly step back. They didn’t call you the Viper for no reason and he didn’t want to be on the other end of your venomous bite. No one did. You inhaled a deep breath, reigning in your emotions as best you could and focused instead on him. He looked angry, furious in fact, but you couldn’t figure out the reason.

“Now don’t tell me I did something wrong already,” you said lowly. Messing with him had always been your favorite past time, riling him up until he snapped, because you loved the rush it gave you. Perhaps it was sick in a way, but you knew he enjoyed it to. Enjoyed not being the _Golden Boy_ for once.

His stare hardened. “What did Fury want with you?”

_So that’s what he was after_.

Your lips tilted up into a smirk, knowing there was no way in hell he’d find out, so why not have a little fun. “He told me to not get on your bad side. To be good.”

The tick in his jaw told you that with just a few words you had him right where you wanted him and he didn’t like that. Steve always held control, whether it be a mission, his life, or the orders given. He maintained some level of control over it, but with you, with the way you made his mind spin, he held no control. Steve hated how much he liked the fact that you could force him to his knees if you wished it. He didn’t want to yearn for it, didn’t _want_ to want you, but the better part of his judgement had been shut off the second he saw you in that forest.

“I’m not here for your games. Unlike you I actually want to save lives, not ruin them.” He knew once the words were out there was no going back. The color of your eyes had shifted into that dangerous brilliant gold, the reigns you held over yourself now gone. Fallen out of your hands, because you let go.

You stood to your full height, freezing him in place with your glare. “Tell me _Rogers_ , who were you saving when you tried to keep me here? Unlike you I can detach myself from the situation and still come out on top. I don’t allow myself to fall into the memories of the past. Can you say the same for yourself?” you spit out the words, adding a little venom on the way.

He winced when he felt the aftereffects of your powers. This was you giving him a warning, a nip in the ass to get him to remain on good terms, because when you actually sunk your teeth in you could kill him.

Steve stepped back when you took a step forward. “Whatever Fury told me is between him and me. So, do me the favor and keep out of it, because I’d rather enjoy giving you taste of my venom.”

He didn’t bother to stop you when you walked away, instead remaining where he stood. No matter how much he hated to admit it, you were right. There was a job to complete, a mission to finally finish and you weren’t here to become allies with anyone. Except a part of him, a part that still called to you, wished you were here for more, that you came back for more than just this.

He wished you had come back for _him_.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were back in his life, back in the compound, and yet he still claimed to hate you. Only he’d never know the true reason as to why you were back, as to why you did what you did. Why you became the Viper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It's a dark ass chapter, so read at your own risk. I'm serious. DARK THEMES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Falling felt peaceful. That was the thought you held onto after you stepped off, after you took the physical leap away from your past. A calm, serene feeling of floating through the air. No thought of imminent death, of what came when you finally fell to the bottom, just the continual emotion of peace.

What did you have to feel bad about? You did what you were destined to do. He couldn’t continue to live with the pain of knowing what you were going through. What your body wanted to force you into. They had turned you into a _masterpiece_ as they said, a weapon with no safety to turn on, just the knowledge that they had to stand by and watch the clock tick.

Until it hit zero.

And you exploded.

You heard his scream; heard him shout your name, beg for you to change your mind. But it had to be done. You couldn’t allow him to be hurt because of what they turned you into. The last image in your mind, the sight of him pleading with you, tears streaming down his face, to come home with him. To let him protect you.

But how could he protect a volatile weapon?

“Y/N!” he shouted, running to a stop mere feet away. “What are you doing?”

You looked down at the empty sky below you. It always looked terrifying from up there on the top of the Avengers tower.

“I’m not going to let myself hurt you.” You couldn’t look at him, the pain too great at his point.

“You won’t hurt me. Please get down from there.” He took a step forward, but you held up a hand, a gun pointed not at him, but at the one person he vowed to protect. “Y/N,” he whispered in horror.

“They turned me into a monster Steve. A monster they didn’t know how to control. One not even I can control.” Tears fell down your face, the wind hitting your back and making you freeze.

All of it was true. For so long you were normal, a person who didn’t hold powers, but training. Until that all changed and you became something else, something that threatened everything you loved. Threatened him. No, you wouldn’t allow this thing inside you, whatever they created, to hurt him. It could kill you, take you with its destructive behavior, but you wouldn’t allow it to ruin anyone else.

“Come home with me. I’ll help you figure this out.” He reached a hand out to help you step down.

“You can’t help.”

“No! I can. You just have to let me, please.” Steve thought he knew what agony felt like, what true pain was. He didn’t have a clue. For so long he’d lived with it, believed that was it, no more to endure, but then they took you. And he had to watch you live through the same agony he’d gone through, the same identity crisis.

Steve didn’t know true pain until he had to watch you endure it himself.

“I’m sorry Steve,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

He didn’t know the truth behind it all, behind what you were dealing with. The internal battle you fought with your powers as they threatened to take you under; the war of remaining yourself. Except it always came with a price didn’t it? Trying to remain above water, float to the person you used to be. All of it came with consequence. And losing him would be _yours_.

Steve screamed your name, sprinted towards the edge of the roof to try and catch you, but he was too late. You’d given him up for what you knew to be for the greater good, except he would never know that. He would never know the truth. So, he had to watch you fall, watch you give yourself over to the enemy inside of you. He ran towards the staircase, tried to get to you before you landed.

Except you never hit the ground.

Because that’s not why you jumped.

\------

Steve glared at you from across the table, the meeting turning from brief to long winded and withdrawn. You wanted to get out of there, the itch to explore making you antsy, but instead you were forced to continue to sit there. However long he glared at you for, you countered by ignoring him the entire time. You weren’t even supposed to be sitting in on this meeting, meant to be training or kept somewhere else, but Natasha had insisted you join. Funny how she was nowhere to be seen. Something told you that she did it for a reason. That she did it to mess with not just you, but Steve as well.

Every time your eyes met his, every time you countered his glare with one of your own, he felt himself shift. Felt the hatred he was supposed to hold for you move towards something else, creep their way back to a past he thought he’d left behind. He learned the truth of why he couldn’t find you after you jumped from that roof. And he couldn’t fathom why you would do it, why you would choose to abandon everything you knew here to _figure out_ your powers.

He struggled to keep his emotions in check. Normally he was good at it, a perfect soldier prepared for war, but this was a different kind of war. This was a battle he didn’t expect to come his way and he knew no matter how hard he fought, no matter how much he tried to deny it, he’d lose. He’d surrender willingly in a matter of seconds.

The meeting ended and you breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally, freedom from the monotone voices of the agents who were giving their presentation of the next target. Not necessarily a target, but more an enemy. Except they never did use the word _enemy_ for the entirety of the time they spoke, and you figured it was on your behalf.

Why piss of the most dangerous person in the room?

You stood practically rushing out the door and heading over towards where you were meant to be. Natasha offered to train you, help you get back onto your feet fighting wise, but you were opting on not going. What would it accomplish other than bringing back a connection you would have to later leave behind? You could feel his presence behind you, feel him getting closer to catching up to you and that’s probably why you made a fast choice. Making a beeline for the training room, you left him behind you. There was already too much going on, and having to deal with him again after yesterday’s debacle wouldn’t go over well.

She was already training some agents when you arrived. Her fighting skill was so advanced she made every move look easy, even as she dropped a man on his ass. You remember that being you at one point. How you spent hours in here training with every Avenger, trying to become as great as them.

“Work on your kicks,” Nat said. She didn’t compliment very often and those who were able to gain one from the Black Widow herself, well they felt like they won the lottery. You were one of those people.

She grabbed a towel as you stepped towards the mat. “You know you continue to stand there, when you should be asking your question.”

You tried not to smile. She really didn’t miss a thing.

“I thought I might take you up on the training you offered. See if I can finally kick your ass.”

Nat tossed the towel to the side, already stepping onto the mat. “No powers allowed.”

“Fine by me.” You had gotten good at reigning in your emotions when training. Instead, only relying on just letting out the stress that you felt on the daily.

“Let’s see what you got... Viper.”

She charged first, attempting to throw you off balance and sweep your legs out from under you. But she seemed to forget that was the first move she taught you how to deflect. You dodged, turning until your back was to her and going for her face with your elbow, but she caught your arm. Even now, with no powers she was able to tighten her grip until pain shot up your arm and you were left trying to fight your way out of it.

In a move that you had spent hours perfecting, you kicked your leg out, slamming it into her calf and rolled forward taking her with you. Using the force of your right leg you shoved her forward until she landed a few feet away, already getting to her feet. You spotted the knife in her hand before she pulled it out fully and nearly smiled.

No powers, but she said nothing about weapons.

You didn’t have your whip with you, nor a knife, but you did spot a familiar looking staff hanging on the wall. You knew Clint Barton would hate you for using it, but going against the Black Widow without a weapon in your hand was suicide. Natasha watched with amusement in her eyes as you sprinted for the staff; her hand already letting the knife fly in your direction. It embedded itself in the wall, giving you just enough time to snatch it as well as the staff.

She didn’t hit you on purpose and even you knew that. If she had meant to hit her target, you would be already on the floor bleeding out. No, it was only a warning shot. A warning of what you weren’t sure, but if you knew Nat, there would always be another side to the game she played. Another side to the story she told you. A smile crossed your lips when you realized she was testing you, making sure you still held the skill she taught you so long ago.

This wasn’t a game; it was a way to see past the façade you gave to people. A way to see past the Viper and back to Y/N.

You dropped the staff, hearing it fall to the floor with a loud clatter, and flipped the knife in your hand. She wanted to see if you were still in there, if you would take her up on this fight, you’d give her exactly what she wanted. Natasha could see the shift in your stance, the old fighter coming back to the surface and she knew she’d caught you right where she wanted you. You were giving into your emotions and that would be your undoing.

What you didn’t see that she did was the flash of gold in your eyes, the small hint of what you kept underneath the surface.

She did say no powers, but villains rarely play by the rules. Your eyes locked on her and she could see it. It’s what she wanted after all, to see your capabilities beyond the person you used to be. Gripping the knife tighter, you allowed whatever skill you held, whatever part of you that was able to hone in on agility, and stepped into the role of the Viper.

You felt him come in, felt the shift of the air that went from being a playful test of two old friends, to the tense feeling he brought with him. Except that didn’t stop you from spinning and releasing the knife in her direction. She dodged, of course she did, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. You had thrown the knife, and he would give you hell for it. That you _counted_ on.

“Are you insane?” he shouted, already heading over to where you stood.

“Steve,” Nat began, but he cut her off.

“You could have killed her.”

Meeting his glare, he could see that you were in fact not fully in control. He wouldn’t back down this time though, because he was angry. What the fuck was he angry for though? Had it been because he couldn’t sleep last night, too wrapped up in the memories that threatened to take him under? Or was it the way that your aura haunted him around the facility like a ghost. All he knew is that when he saw you throw the knife, saw the beauty you exhibited, an ethereal, volatile serpent ready to strike, and he needed to do something to get close to you.

He just didn’t expect it to be anger.

“I think you and I both know a knife thrown by me wouldn’t have killed her,” you sneered at him.

Natasha took her leave then, slipping out the door. She had done what she came to do and that was to get Steve to talk to you. Bucky had agreed with her when she said they needed to figure out what was going on with them, before they went after Zemo.

“We don’t use weapons in training for one reason. You should remember that.”

You gave a mirthless laugh, finding this whole situation ridiculous. “Unbelievable. I understand you hate me Rogers, but we have a mission to get through. I will be gone after that, so you don’t have to worry about me sticking around.”

There was no room to respond, because once again you were making your exit, leaving him in the training room. You were leaving afterwards. He knew that, had known you wouldn’t stay, but still it left a sting in his heart. This play of hatred, of loathing someone wasn’t him. He didn’t do this, but for some reason he couldn’t let go of what had happened. The job meant looking at the reality of situations.

So why was he stuck on what _could_ have happened.

You found your way back to the room given to you in order to get your emotions under control. He wanted to show you his anger, wanted to do whatever he could to make you snap, then you’d do the same. He didn’t know what battle he just started, but you rarely lost fights. And he’d find out the difficult way.

Pacing in your room you wanted to scream, wanted to chuck that knife at him instead, but you couldn’t do that. It was dangerous to let your emotions get the best of you. A horrible idea to not gain control of them, but you’d lost hold of the reins and now they were free to control _you_ instead. Dinner would start in an hour. You didn’t understand the reasoning behind having a semi formal dinner with the Avengers, but you never bothered to question Stark’s logic.

They had allowed you a dress, green velvet, with gold lining. It was clear to you who had picked it. Natasha did have a way with humor when she wanted to. Taking a breath, you managed to shove a piece of yourself to the surface long enough to get ready. Long enough to remember you weren’t doing this to show them what you really were, but to instead show them what they believed you to be.

Red lips and a gold necklace were the last additions you had before making sure you were ready. You smoothed down the dress as you stood in front of the mirror. There were times you had let your powers free, allowed yourself the insatiable indulgence to give into them. It never ended well. Except you counted on that this time; you counted on them giving The Avengers a show, giving _him_ a show.

Closing your eyes, you let go of the small thread of control you held over them. Let it snap in half as the emotions rose to the surface, the lust for power it gave you. Gold irises stared back at you in the mirror, the hue brighter than last time, because now that’s all that showed.

They wanted the serpent, so you’d give it to them. You’d give them the Viper.

Music you didn’t recognize played when you entered downstairs, but it helped to drown out the sounds of people. You noticed a few agents mulling around, everyone dressed in their best clothes, as they talked business. Or at least what you assumed was business. It didn’t really matter to you either way. Snatching the arm of a man who looked stunning in the suit he wore you offered him a smile, allowing the aura of your powers to soak into the air around you.

“ _You want to escort me in don’t you_ ,” you said, seeing the shift in his pupils, the wince he gave when you sunk your figurative teeth in.

“Would you like me to escort you in?” he asked.

You smiled wider. “I’d love that.”

He saw you coming, saw you enter the room hanging off the arm of some agent. Steve stiffened, the conversation he was having with Sam and Bucky ending immediately as his eyes narrowed. The dress you wore was meant for one reason alone and he knew Natasha had been behind it. Except that wasn’t what made him want to drag you out of the room. It was the gold irises of your eyes, the way they practically glowed. You had let go of the control and given in. You weren’t you and he knew this wouldn’t end well.

Practically slamming the glass onto the bar, he left his friends to head in your direction, but you stopped him with your glare. You were stronger since he last saw you two years ago. Able to do more than he expected and he found himself unable to do anything but remain underneath your gaze. Frozen.

“ _I suggest, you leave me the fuck alone Rogers_.” This wasn’t merely a suggestion, because he felt the sharp sting that coursed through his body as you said it. You were standing across the room from him and yet he could hear you. As if you had whispered the words in his ear.

Steve tried to fight against it, tried to break through the haze your powers gave him, but there was no fighting it. You had overpowered him yet again and he would be left to try and find a way out of it. Except you would always underestimated him, always believed him to be weak minded against the poison you gave.

So, this wasn’t a dinner. You realized that the second you saw the food out on tables and people dancing. Did you mind the change? No, in fact you liked this, liked being out and about with people. But was that you talking or the other part of you talking? You weren’t sure at this point. All you knew was that this thrilling feeling of holding power, of being able to use what you kept hidden away for so long, made you want to never let it go.

You mingled amongst the crowds, spoke to different people and each one commented on your eyes. _Contacts,_ you told them. They matched the theme of your dress, so you figured why not. All lies. But that’s what serpents were good at no? Lying through their pretty teeth and giving the world a different version of themselves.

“Lovely party isn’t it?” some woman asked. You didn’t know her, nor did you find her very interesting, but you held the conversation nonetheless.

“Yes, it is.” The champagne you were drinking should have gone to your head already. That was the beauty of having powers you guessed, never dealing with losing your inhibitions with alcohol.

“I must say.” Her tone shifted to a bitter one. “I didn’t think they’d ever bother to invite scum into the tower.”

The shift in your body should have told her what would happen. She wished to poke the monster inside of you, the bomb that had yet to go off. You knew what happened when anger overtook you, had seen it ruin people, destroy things, and you had done your best to stop it from happening. Not tonight.

A smile curved onto your lips. “Scum?”

“You’re nothing but someone who causes chaos. A person who uses the gifts they were given to take advantage of others.”

Gifts you were given. You would hardly call being forced into a small cage where they spent hours experimenting on you, giving you _gifts_. The power you held seeped further into the air, immediately drawing the attention of the other Avengers in the room. They set themselves into action even before you could say the words. Steve could finally feel the weight of the haze you set on him shatter and he pushed himself through the crowd to get to you.

The woman froze, hypnotized by the alluring look of your eyes, as you said the next few words to ensure her fate. “ _It’s a nice night out for a walk in the street don’t you think?_ ”

As always, her pupils dilated, she winced at the bite, and she nodded turning away from you. Except you could see someone grip her arm and drag her further into the tower. Sam Wilson, the hero. You nearly went after them, the anger rushing to the surface at being played, but someone stood in your way. Stark began to announce that the party had to be put on hold as they fixed something lethal in the lab and you were left stuck in place.

“You aren’t playing fair,” you said, meeting his gaze.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not playing anymore.”

“Oh, come on Rogers. You wanted to see her, didn’t you?” Spinning around you faced the now empty room that only held a few of the team left. “You all wanted to see the _villain_ you brought back with you, didn’t you? You wanted to have the company of a Viper! So, I gave it to you!”

A hand gripped your arm, trying to get you to turn around. “Y/N,” he spit out. “Calm down.”

“ _Unless you wish to fight me, you should leave_.”

He expected to have to let go, but you hadn’t directed your powers at him. No, you shoved it out towards everyone else in the room. The shuffling of feet alerted you that they were in fact leaving the area, leaving you alone with the one person you wished to take your anger out on. He let go of your arm, but still remained close to you.

“Don’t do this.” He wasn’t pleading with you this time; he was ordering you. The Captain of the team felt the need to now give you orders and you almost laughed at that.

“Do what? Give you what you want?” You stepped away to pour yourself a drink. “I thought I was being nice that way. Playing by your rules.”

He ran a hand through his beard. “There are no rules when it comes to you Y/N.”

“Don’t call me that,” you said lowly.

“It’s your name.”

“No, it used to be my name.” The sting of the alcohol helped. “I don’t go by that anymore. After all she’s dead, isn’t she?”

He took in a sharp breath at your words. “She’s not dead. I refuse to believe that.”

A humorless laugh left you. “Admit it Rogers. She died the moment she jumped off that roof and gave into what was stronger than her.”

Steve felt whatever ounce of patience he had left leave him and he crossed the room to stand in front of you again. “You’re trying to prove to me that there’s no good left in you, no humanity and I don’t see it.”

“You and I both know there’s nothing left inside me. And besides you hate me, so why the sudden show of feelings?”

He tried not to show the pain that coursed through him at your words. “I hate what you’re doing to yourself.”

You scoffed moving to step away from him. “Fuck you Rogers. You only hate me because I left you behind.”

His hand gripped your arm, holding you in place. “Stop this. Push it down. Stop giving into what they made you, because I don’t want to see that part of you.”

_I don’t want to see that part of you_. His words rang in your ears, slowly pressing down on your heart until you heard the crack, heard the break that flooded your body with pain. You shouldn’t have been surprised to hear the tone in his voice, the hatred for what they made you showing finally. Yes, you hated what they made you, but you still held onto your small hope, small dream that he wouldn’t.

“Why?” you asked. “I like it.” A lie, the biggest fucking lie you’ve ever told in your life, but you would do anything to get him to break. To show you how he really felt.

“You’re lying.”

You ripped your arm out of his grasp stepping back and letting the power you loathed filter through the entirety of the room until he was practically choking on it.

“Explain to me who the hell you think you are. A man who was turned into a hero through experimentation.”

He fought against what hold you were trying to force on him. “That’s not the same.”

“ _Why?_ ” you asked.

Steve shut his eyes tightly trying to fight. “Shut up,” he growled out.

“I asked you a question. _Tell me why?_ ”

“No.” He lunged forward grabbing onto your arms and dragging you forward. “I will not tell you what you think I believe.”

You faltered, feeling the wave of emotions he brought out fill you, but you wouldn’t give yourself another chance to break him. You couldn’t.

“ _Let go of me_.”

His grip only tightened, his eyes darkening from a bright blue to a darker color, one you knew came out when he was in battle. His entire focus was on keeping himself away from your powers, on blocking his mind from you.

“I said-” your foot shot out and slammed against his shin, the heel hitting its mark. “Let go of me.”

Steve fell back a foot, his grip gone from you, but there was an understanding that passed through you eyes to his. The only way you’d gain control of your powers was to relieve the stress somehow. It’s why he charged at you, why your fist slammed into his jaw sending him reeling back.

“Hit me again,” he prompted.

Your fist clenched. “No.”

He moved closer, his face inches away from yours. “Unless you can’t.”

A cry of anger left your lips, your eyes turning dangerously gold, as your fist flew out again. It hit his jaw again, the other going for his side, but he managed to grip onto your wrist and spin you until your back hit his chest. He wanted you to fight against this, take out your anger so you could gain control again. Your elbow nearly struck his face, but you missed. He moved out of the way giving you enough time to escape his hold.

“Fuck you Rogers,” you spit out.

He let out a ruthless laugh, one you’d never heard from him before. “All you have to do is ask darling.”

You hated how much that made your body call out to him. The wrap around your arm, the gold and silver snake he knew so well was gripped into your hand. It wasn’t a piece of decoration for you to wear. The whip cracked onto the ground, a flurry of gold sparks rising up from where it hit. You were no longer playing. He tried to rush at you, but the whip tied around his wrist, biting into his skin.

“You’re not playing fair,” he gritted out, repeating your words from earlier.

“I’m not playing anymore.” Yanking the whip, he stumbled forward. “ _On your knees_.”

Steve struggled against it, tried to not follow what you said, but his knees hit the ground with a loud thump on their own accord. You looked dangerous from his viewpoint. A regal being, ready to take down their enemy. What was he supposed to do? You had him right where you wanted him to be and now, he could do nothing but wait for what came next. The gold he’d grown to find irresistible flashed brighter at the sight of him on his knees in front of you, but then you were closing your eyes. Drawing in a deep breath and taking over the control you had let go.

He felt it; the release of your hold snap in two, as he was set free. You were no longer fighting him, no longer giving into that which meant to destroy you. Pride filled his chest at the realization, but then an emotion he didn’t think he’d feel again overwhelmed him.

Getting to his feet he felt the whip tighten, your hold on the weapon still strong. You weren’t going to fight him using your powers, but that didn’t mean you were giving up _this_ fight. His lips quirked up at that thought and he intended to do what it took to win. Catching you off guard he pulled the whip until you were jolted forward, the handle flying out of your hands.

It was too late to reach for it. He had been freed from it’s hold and had you in his. Your back hit the wall before you could even fight against him, the grip on your wrist pressing them on either side of your head.

“You gave in,” he said lowly. “Why?”

You shook your head. “Get off me.”

“Tell me why?” he growled out.

“You know why!” you shouted back.

There it was, the unspoken truth between the two of you that had been held down, buried away. The reason why he couldn’t stay away from you, why you couldn’t fight him even if you tried to. The reason why, even after so long, you still loved him.

His eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. He didn’t want to give into this, give into you, but he’d already gone too far. The truth had been freed and there would be no going back from it. Back from what he tried to hide from you.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispered.

Your eyes met his, the familiar eye color he missed, as you took in deep breaths to calm yourself. “I can’t.”

Pain that mimicked his own flared up in your gaze. Was it a mistake to allow this? You believed it to be one. Except at the end of it all, at the end of the hatred and loathing you pushed out. There was still him. You let your eyes drop close, when his nose brushed against yours, his breath washing across your face. There would be no resistance this time, no fighting, no anger, because that’s not what you wanted.

“Steve,” you breathed out.

He took in a shaky breath, before his lips slotted roughly against yours, taking away your own breath and replacing it with whatever he felt for you. Was it a mistake? Probably, but you couldn’t give a damn.

Not when it came to him.


End file.
